


Simple

by Rebecca



Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-12-24
Updated: 2010-12-24
Packaged: 2017-10-14 01:07:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,235
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/143677
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rebecca/pseuds/Rebecca
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Hathaway is unusually brooding and cynical. Lewis starts to worry...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Simple

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dkwilliams](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dkwilliams/gifts).



> When I was browsing the Yuletide letters and saw dkwilliams' prompt, this little scene sneaked up upon me, and I knew I had to write a little treat. :)

Lewis isn't a curious man. Of course he likes to know what's going on in people's heads, it's part of his job, but he doesn't stick his nose where it doesn't belong. That's why he doesn't comment when Hathaway starts to get unusually brooding and cynical.

He even keeps quiet when Hathaway stops showing up at his place for a drink after work, although he misses the lad's company. Lewis remembers the last time that Hathaway had tried to keep a secret all too well; it had ended in a spectacular row and a near-disaster in which Hathaway had almost died. Burnt alive, no less. Lewis doesn't like to be reminded of the whole mess.

When Laura Hobson starts to notice, though, and asks him if he's fallen out with Hathaway, Lewis rethinks his strategy. He _is_ worried about Hathaway, so maybe he should talk to him—or at least try to, because whether Hathaway _will_ talk is, of course, a whole other question. Lewis doesn't like the idea much, but once he's made up his mind he asks Hathaway out for a pint in one of their favourite pubs. Neutral ground. Hathaway, probably sensing what Lewis is up to, refuses at first, saying that he doesn't have time, but Lewis presses on and questions his excuses like the good copper he is, and finally Hathaway gives in.

The evening begins awkwardly, which isn't much of a surprise. Hathaway stares dourly into his drink, replying to Lewis attempts at conversation only in short-clipped sentences, and Lewis—well, Lewis tries desperately to make conversation. When it isn't getting any better, he decides to stop beating around the bush.

"So, what is it that's bothering you?" he asks bluntly. "And don't say there isn't anything. I'm not stupid, you know."

Hathaway shrugs.

"Is it about me?" Lewis asks. "Have I done something?"

"No, sir," Hathaway replies and shakes his head decidedly enough that Lewis is convinced it's the truth.

"Something to do with your family, then?"

"No. I don't care about them, they don't care about me. Pretty efficient arrangement."

Lewis winces, but realises that this is not the gist of the matter, so he just stores the information for later reference and continues.

"Is it about a girl?"

At this point, Hathaway snorts bitterly, and Lewis has the feeling he's getting somewhere. He remembers how he asked once if Hathaway was gay, and how Hathaway had, despite rambling a lot, never really answered the question. Lewis hadn't given it much thought; there had been more pressing issues at the time and it was none of his business anyway. Now, however, the pieces start to fall into place.

"It's about a bloke, then," Lewis says, and it isn't a question.

Hathaway thumps his head onto the table.

"It's all right, you can tell me," Lewis adds encouragingly.

"Nothing is all right," Hathaway spits out. There's so much agony in his voice, in his entire demeanour, that Lewis gets the impression there's more behind it than just a broken heart.

"This isn't another guilt trip about being gay, is it?" Lewis sighs, but regrets the words the moment they are out of his mouth. He can tell from the stiffening of Hathaway's shoulders that he has hit home, and has done so with the tact of a pit bull.

"I'm sorry," Lewis says. "I didn't mean it like that. I just... Well, I thought you'd come to peace with it. The way you acted around Will's friends, his family... You gave me a bloody speech about Loaded and Yorkie bars, for God's sake!"

"It's different when it's not about yourself," Hathaway says, barely audible.

There's not much Lewis can add to that.

"Why now?" Lewis asks instead. "This can hardly be your first bloke." Lewis hesitates and remembers this is Hathaway he is talking about. "Or is it?"

Hathaway sighs, and it's this moment he gives up resisting. Lewis recognises the transition easily enough, it's what makes him a good detective. As a good detective, he also knows that all he can do now is keep quiet, let Hathaway talk.

"The thing about bisexuality is, you can fool yourself pretty well," Hathaway says.

Lewis nods. He thinks he can understand that.

"So no, there haven't been any guys since..." Hathaway trails off, stares into his glass. A few minutes pass until he continues. "Seminary seemed such an easy way out."

Eyebrows raised, Lewis waits for an explanation, but none comes. Finally, he prods, "How so?"

"Celibacy," Hathaway says. With a hint of his usual cockiness, he adds, "The thing where your are not allowed to think about sex?"

"Yeah, I got that."

"It's also the thing where you don't have to think about your sexuality," Hathaway continues. "Or that's what I thought."

"And it doesn't work like that?" Lewis guesses.

"No, it doesn't work like that. On the contrary."

They sit in silence for a while. Lewis wonders what on earth he can say to set Hathaway straight, or rather, where to start. There's so much to say. "Jim..." he begins.

"Don't," Hathaway says. "There's nothing you can say that hasn't been already said by someone."

Lewis chews on that for a bit. Hathaway's probably right, but on the other hand, sometimes it isn't enough that _someone_ says the right words, sometimes it matters who it is. From what little he's heard, he doubts that Hathaway's family has been of much help, and the thought makes him angry. Anger is not what he needs now, though, so he pushes it away.

"Look, it doesn't _matter_ whether you like women, or men, or both." Lewis says.

Hathaway rolls his eyes.

"It doesn't matter to _me_ ," Lewis continues. "You are a good copper, you are my colleague ... my friend even, and that's not going to change. I don't _care_ as long as you are happy!"

He's a bit surprised at his own words. Where did the part about Hathaway's happiness suddenly come from? It's true though.

There's a long silence in which Lewis can practically see the wheels turning in Hathaway's head.

"People will talk," Hathaway finally says, without looking at him. "You'll be the inspector with the gay sergeant."

In an odd way, it's progress.

"Well, if they talk, they'll have to put up with me," Lewis says and means it.

Hathaway glances up then, and stares in wonder.

"You'd do that?" he asks. "Protect me?"

"Yes," Lewis replies. "But don't let that get to your head."

"Hm," Hathaway says and he's getting that mischievous twitch around the corner of his mouth that Lewis has missed so much. "You know, people might even think that you and I..."

Lewis rolls his eyes, but he actually has to make an effort to be annoyed; he's too glad to have a bit of normalcy back.

There's another silence, but this time it's a mo re comfortable one. Lewis can tell that Hathaway is still lost in deep thoughts, and knowing him, he probably will be for quite a while. But from the looks of it, he's relaxing a little. Lewis is confident that he'll be all right, and if not, he hopes he has made it clear that he'll be there for Hathaway not matter what.

As if reading Lewis' mind, Hathaway looks up from his glass. "Thank you, sir," he says, and Lewis smiles back. It's as simple as that.


End file.
